Short Story: Numbers
by Jasmine
Summary: Number 757 has only one purpose in life: Kill. An encounter with a missionary from planet earth changes and transforms the youth without a name. A faithwriter competition submission.


"Do not…do not kill me." She trembled in fear, holding tightly to a book.

The assassin's face was blank, expressionless. His eyes were lifeless, void of a soul within. He was made for one mission, created for one purpose, trained for one function. The tip of his gun continued to point at the young lady that was before him.  
_Kill. 757, your mission in life is to kill. _The words that were repeated into his blank mind echoed again and again.

"I… have a secret that can change your life…"Bang.

Emperor Number Infinite was standing at the stage, facing a crowd of more than a million expressionless people, all dressed in similar identical gray factory made clothes.

"For the first time in the history of planet 345, we had created one billion factory babies within 365 days with a fatality rate of zero."

The people gazed at the emperor with lifeless eyes, listening.

"Of these one billion babies, the most genetically healthy ones will be groomed to be leaders and breeders. The remainders will be assigned to be trained respectively to specific roles which we had paved out for them."

The people continued to gaze at the emperor.

"And on the 25th year of my reign, we will go to wars with earth. We will pay the earthlings back for abandoning us here."

The people clapped. There was no smile, no joy, their faces were all blank.

_In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth._

That was the first sentence found in the book which the dead girl had been holding.

"Your name, given name, is number 757. You are the 757th successful babies that survive through your first 5 years in planet number 345."

He was given a name for the first time in his 1,825th day alive.

_So God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created him, male and female He created them._

That was how those pathetic earthlings who dared to travel to planet 345 believed themselves to be made?

"You were all made in a factory, with a machine. A sperm was collected from the male specimen, and an egg was collected from a female specimen, and the rest of your making took place inside a special machine known as the baby fertilizer."

He remembered looking vaguely into some pictures that were taken from planet earth; the planet was so beautiful, with things which they call trees, cows, horses and butterflies, all coming forth naturally, not made in a factory.

It was so different from planet 345, where everything was artificially made, from the planet itself, to every single of the machinery tree, and chemically produced food.

Planet 345, a round metallic ball invented by the top scientists living in planet earth, was created by the earthlings to get rid of overpopulation problem on earth.

The people on earth in those photos were so different from the people in planet number 345. They have smiles, they have tears, and they all look so different from one another, as if they are made by a creative and unique being, not a product from a factory.

_Through Him, all things were made; without Him nothing was made that has been made. John 1:3._

All things? Even factory made babies? Even him? A foreign feeling suddenly gripped hold of number 757, it sent strange water raining down his eyes.

"I am just a number. I am not like the earthling. I am made in a factory. I am not made by Him, whoever He is, wherever He may be."

He envied the girl. She was made by Him, not in a factory. Not like him.

_For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life._

"Does that also apply to me, Jesus? Will you also save me, if I believe in you? Please save me."

Something strange entered into the heart of Number 757 for the first time in his life, something he could not explain. "Your body may be produced in a factory, but it is I who put your soul inside," a voice whispered gently within him.

Number 757 smiled. "I am a living being." He threw off the gun and held tightly onto the book.

Note: This entry is submitted as an entry to a competition in Faithwriters. The topic of the competition is science fiction. The word length of the competion is between 150-750 words.

Date it is published: 05/15/07


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